Symphony of War
by sailorgreywolf
Summary: An exploration of PruAus through a series of wars, starting with the first world war. There are lemons. PruAus is the only pairing, but RusPru is very heavily hinted at.
1. Prelude to War

_A/N: I blame this oneshot on taking European History, it has made me ship a ton of characters that I never did before.  
Just for some very necessary background: This is set right before WWI when Germany __encouraged Austria to start the war_

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Austria walked down the hallway fiddling with one of the buttons on his jacket, which was one of his many nervous twitches. He had not expected to be so nervous about this, it was simply asking for a contract to be honored. He was only talking to Prussia, which shouldn't have been a problem, but there was something about it that was causing him to wish he could have just talked to Germany. But, alas, he had no choice in the matter. He turned the final corner, feeling a kind of rising anxiety that he certainly shouldn't be feeling within his own house. He stopped fidgeting with the button and instead used the same hand to push his glasses up to the bridge of his nose.

He took a deep breath to steady himself and then he pushed open the door. The room that Prussia was waiting in was the room that also housed the grand piano. The albino who was causing Austria such strange anxiety had his back to the door and was looking out of one of the windows. He looked staggeringly handsome and clean cut, every white hair was in perfect military order. He was wearing a dress uniform, which was also in immaculate condition. Austria decided that the best course of action was to see what Prussia was looking at so intently instead of trying to start a conversation. Austria took a couple measured steps and joined the other man by the window.

He followed the line of the red eyes and saw what they were fixed on. Below on the street, a car was pulling up to the curb. When it stopped, the door opened and Germany stepped out with a quick spring in his step. A warm smile was plastered across the young man's face. Austria looked back to Prussia's face, which was lit up by a small bright smile. The albino spoke, seemingly to himself, "Ludwig does love those new machines." There was something about the statement, and indeed the smile, which made Austria's heart beat very fast indeed. It was glowing, proud, paternal, all words that Austria hadn't thought he could associate with Prussia. Proud was the only one that had ever seemed applicable, but this was a different kind of pride. It wasn't pride in himself or his own triumphs; it was pride in someone else. But more importantly, at least in Austria's view of it, all the new emotions showed a depth that he had never seen in Prussia before.

Before he could stop himself, Austria said, "It's admirable what you did for him." Prussia's head snapped up and turned towards Austria, "What are you talking about?" Austria had not intended to say what he did and now he was being asked to explain it. The words had escaped after being bottled up since the end of the Franco-Prussian war, since Germany had become a country. It had been the single most selfless thing Austria had ever witnessed a country do and it had come from the one that he had always thought of as the most selfish.

Austria had already made the mistake of saying it, he knew he couldn't go back, "I think it's an admirable thing that you did. When you said you wanted to unify all the Germanic states, I thought you meant that you wanted to bring them all under your control. I thought you meant that you wanted to unify them under the Prussian flag." He stopped for a second to collect his thoughts and also to gauge the other's reaction. Prussia's eyes had gone wide as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing. The albino remained mercifully silent, so Austria forged onwards, even though he felt less than confident about what he was saying, "But you stepped down when you got what you wanted. You let your little brother have the land, the people, and the name. I never thought you, of all people, would give up everything you worked so hard for."

He stopped short again, trying to keep the torrent of stupid words from spilling out. Babbling was not in Austria's nature, but something different was blooming in his chest. He had felt attracted to Prussia's unique beauty for a long time, but now that feeling of attraction was mixing with his new admiration and becoming a softer, warmer feeling. It was an insufferable feeling that made him, a man who was the personification of a vast empire, feel weak. It was this very same feeling that had him losing his composure and spilling his admirations out like this. He feared that Prussia would turn away in the same hostile way he always had. Austria clenched one of his free hands into a fist while he waited for the inevitable reply.

Prussia looked back out the window and pointed down, "You need only look down there to understand why I did it. Look at that smile; look at that light. I would kill to protect that light." He turned away again and looked directly into Austria's eyes. The deep red was full of molten emotion, "And I would kill anyone who sought to put that light out." Austria felt himself falling into those dark red eyes, feeling the emotions spill over. In that moment, he found an understanding with Prussia. He saw something that tied them together.

His lips seemed to move without his consent or knowledge and form words that Austria did not mean to say, "You're a good man, you know." However much he hadn't meant to say them, Austria knew the words were quite true. He couldn't help but see Prussia as a man now. Before he had seemed to be a child, a selfish child who wanted nothing but advancement. Austria had resented that child, but now he could see the man who had grown out of it. This was not remotely close to what he had asked the German brothers to come here to discuss, but the situation could not be stopped. Prussia spoke as though he had not heard the admission that sounded to Austria too much like a confession, "We were like that once, optimistic and young. Do you remember it, Roderich?" Austria simply nodded, thinking that he knew what time Prussia was talking about. It had been a long time ago for both of them.

Prussia continued, "I remember the Enlightenment well. We were so young then." There was nostalgia in his voice. It was a nostalgia that Austria could relate to. During the Enlightenment, Austria had been an undisputed empire, and now he was coming apart at the seams. Every little nationalistic divide was capable of bringing him down and Austria was hardly holding himself together. He responded, "Of course I remember it, Gilbert. How could I not? I had Maria Theresa and Franz Joseph; you had Friedrich the Great." Prussia turned away from the window and started to walk around the room, "It's more than that. Those were the best years of our lives and we didn't even know it."

He stopped at the piano and thumbed through the sheet music that Austria had left out. Austria watched with a sense of careful curiosity. He didn't know what Prussia was doing, but he was perfectly willing to wait for the response. The albino looked back up at Austria and said, "Schubert?" Austria nodded, unsure why his choice of composer was important, "I happen to like Schubert." Prussia nodded and a slight smile appeared on his face again, "I would expect that you do, he was one of your Romantics. But this is exactly my point, we surround ourselves with the artifacts of the past." Austria admitted the truth of the words to himself. He did enjoy reminding himself with music and paintings of the past, but that was only natural considering how old he was. The past was more comforting than the present and in someway, Prussia shared that past. That past was the mysterious thing that held them together.

Prussia finished his circle around the room and walked back to the window next to Austria. He looked back out the window, "My point is that we are the past. Ludwig is the future. He is where we were centuries ago. Why should I hold him back, when he has the youthful fervor that I could only dream of now?" Austria finally had a response to this, "Do you really miss the days when we were constantly enemies?" He didn't add the obvious second question: Do you still hate me? If the answer to that were affirmative, it would utterly crush Austria. For so long he had not bothered to think about how Prussia felt about them But, now that they were here so close together, Austria couldn't stand the thought that Prussia may still despise him.

It was not comforting when the albino started to laugh. Austria took a reflexive step backwards in response to the laughter, but he was stopped by Prussia's hand, which was quite suddenly on his shoulder. Austria could feel the heat of the skin through his jacket and his shirt. The heat seemed to spread with supernatural speed, going through his whole body. Prussia had touched him before, why did this one feel so different to him?

The albino spoke with the laughter still in his voice, "I miss the impunity with which we used to be able to clash. No complications, just you and me going at it. But, do I miss being at odds with you?" He put his other hand on Austria's other shoulder, so that they were looking directly at each other. Prussia's voice was so full of confidence, but when he spoke again it was soft, "Of course I don't miss that." The Austrian's heart started racing in his ears, beyond his own control. He half-hoped that it would stop so he could take some control of this conversation. Austria couldn't decide whether he wanted to close the distance between them or if he wanted to pull away to finally get to the business at hand.

He went with the latter instinct and stepped backwards, away from the albino's hands. The emotions were too confusing, too compromising. Austria couldn't stand turning to putty in someone else's hands, especially when that someone was Prussia. He said, trying to change the subject, "Your Kaiser certainly seems fond of your brother." Prussia's warm smile suddenly dropped, replaced by a scowl, "Wilhelm is not my Kaiser." The words were delivered in a growl, far more aggressive than Austria expected. It had been a statement simply to change the subject away from the volatile feelings between them. Austria had not intended to provoke Prussia's anger, but he had.

A second of silence passed where Austria mused over the anger. As he thought about it, Austria stumbled upon a reason for it, one he should have seen before, "Did you disown him because he fired Bismarck?" Prussia scoffed, "He disowned me. He chose to reject everything I laid down to help guide my brother. If he is good for Ludwig, I will eventually forgive him." Prussia shifted his weight and looked directly back at Austria.

But the subject was very sore for Austria as well, and he bitterly said, "At least you still have your dynasty. Wilhelm II is still a Hohenzollern." Prussia took a step towards Austria, clearly becoming more confrontational, "What do you mean by that?" But now Austria could take the offensive, he had finally swung the conversation around to the subject he had called Prussia here to discuss. He took a step to match Prussia's and said, "I mean that you can still keep your dynasty alive. You know what happened to mine." As he became more agitated, Austria's voice got progressively louder, "My last hope, Franz Ferdinand, was slain by some Serbian coward. The Hapsburgs are at a dead end and there is nothing I can do about it!" This was the affront that stung most keenly for Austria and the one he desperately wanted to avenge. When a country had been ruled by a single family for centuries, they started to feel extremely protective of every single member of the family. The assassination of Franz Ferdinand had felt to Austria like the murder of a very close blood relative. Thus far, he had offered an ultimatum to Serbia, but he wanted far more. He wanted justice.

Prussia directly addressed this, "So, what are you going to do about it? Don't be a coward, Roderich. You have the military power, now show Serbia what you do with nationalists." Austria looked down at the ground for a second and braced himself to say what he had been trying to say through the whole encounter. When he looked back up at Prussia's red eyes, he said, "If I go to war with Serbia, France and Russia will both intervene. I can't take that much war by myself. Will you and your brother back me?" The other responded immediately and without any apparent reservations, "Of course."

He turned to look back out the window. On the sidewalk below, Germany had struck up a conversation with a mortal, apparently talking about automobiles. Prussia spoke still facing the window, "Ludwig could use a good war to prove himself anyway." Again, Prussia turned back towards Austria. A mischievous smirk was the only warning that Austria got before the other reached out and put his hand gently under his chin. Prussia's white thumb ran softly over Austria's lower lip while the Prussian man said, "And I wouldn't want to leave you out in the cold." This seemingly romantic gesture made Austria's stomach start to flutter uncomfortably. His rebellious heart started racing again, making it hard to think straight. He had gotten the answer he wanted, but he didn't feel happy. Austria wanted to get either a full commitment or a full rejection from Prussia just to silence the unspoken sexual tension between them.

Anger bubbled up from the bitterness in his gut and he pushed himself away from Prussia for the second time. Austria felt a strange stinging in the corners of his eyes as he said, "Verdammit, Gilbert! Don't tease me!" This struck a chord somewhere inside of the albino. Without any warning, he grabbed hold of Austria's wrist and pulled aggressively. The brunette hardly found it possible to resist, they were very close together before he could even catch his breath to say another word. Prussia said, "Teasing? I have never teased you, Schatz. Never." He raised the hand that wasn't occupied with Austria's wrist and ran it down the side of Austria's face.

The albino kept speaking in the same, deeper aggressively possessive voice, "This is not teasing; letting someone want you and then turning away is teasing. What you have done to me is teasing, Schatz." Austria struggled to find the words to respond, but he couldn't. He had thought Prussia didn't have any feelings toward him, and he didn't know how to respond to this sudden change. He said, his voice weak, "I had no idea…" Prussia used his hold on the other's wrist to pull him even closer. Their chests were now pressed together and Austria felt like this position was stiflingly hot. It felt to him like there weren't layers of cloth between them and there was nothing but shared body heat.

Prussia took advantage of the closeness and his hand on Austria's face to pull the other man into a kiss. When their lips met, all of Austria's ideas about resisting fell away. He had wanted this for, if he was honest with himself, at least a century, why should he fight back now? Their lips meshed together perfectly. Prussia planted a small nip on Austria's lower lip. Austria felt like he was melting as Prussia's hand released his wrist and wrapped itself around his waist. Another, more aggressive, nip on his lower lip finally prompted Austria to open his mouth and let in the other's tongue. Austria felt the albino's tongue exploring every part of his mouth, with no resistance from his own eager tongue. An unbidden moan was released from Austria's throat, but he no longer cared. Austria felt Prussia's hand move still lower so that it was now pressing their lower bodies together. Without thinking about it, Austria started to grind against the other man.

This was a mistake because Prussia immediately disengaged their lips and took a small step backwards. Austria made a whining noise in the back of his throat, and desperately looked up at Prussia for an explanation. However, Prussia looked away from him and back out the window that they were still standing right next to. Austria was momentarily baffled until Prussia said, "Thank God, Ludwig wasn't watching that. He doesn't need to see me doing anything quite that obscene." Austria took another breath to calm his nerves and then grabbed Prussia's wrist, which captured the albino's attention. The only words he could manage were, "Bitte gib mir mehr." It was a desperate plea, and it went unanswered.

Prussia jerked his hand out of Austria's grasp and scornfully said, "Don't be soft. You have a war, not an affair, to start. I've already given you your answer, so our work here is done." With that, the albino ran one hand over his white hair to sweep it back into perfect order. Austria's heart, which had finally calmed to what seemed like a semi-normal speed, started to sink as he realized that Prussia was getting ready to leave the room. He, even after all of anxiety, just wanted to keep Prussia in the room. Beyond that, he wanted to keep Prussia here for the night. He took a quick step towards the albino, who had been walking away, "Where are you going, Gil?" Prussia turned around and said with that beautiful paternal smile, "I must get Ludwig home. Too much socialization is not good for a boy his age." Austria nodded, he couldn't argue with that reasoning even thought he wanted to. He couldn't do anything but watch as the albino walked out of the room.

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_A/N: I have finally written PruAus, I never thought I would do that! Anyway, this isn't supposed to fit into the time line of Folie a deux, which is why it is a separate oneshot. But, it is emotionally accurate for Folie a deux.  
PLEASE review! It's so hard to get reviews on oneshots_


	2. Interlude of War

Austria was sitting on an unfamiliar couch attempting to center himself and sort out what had become of his life. He knew what had happened today; he had officially become part of the third Reich. And yet, this still felt so foreign. He looked up at the full-length painting of Hitler looming on the wall in front of him. The man was an Austrian, not a German, so Austria should feel more connection to him than this. But the cold expression, the dark beady eyes, conveyed nothing. The emphatic speeches were meant for German ears and it meant less to Austria.

This still felt uncomfortable, and nothing he could do would make the situation better. So, he opened a small book of poetry and flipped through the pages until he found the one he had been thinking of, it dealt with terrible temptations. At the moment, it seemed appropriate. Austria had to be honest with himself; it hadn't been the threat of German troops on his border that had forced him into this merger. It had been an unspoken promise, not of what but whom. His thoughts had been firmly fixed on Prussia, and the way he had looked when he had delivered the ultimatum. As usual, he had been handsome and strong, but he had also been more composed than he had been since the end of the Great War.

There was no reason to believe that things had changed between them, even with the Anschluss firmly in place. There had always been enmity, tension. Even when they had fought side by side in the Great War, there had been little more than a glimmer between them. The only sign he had gotten had been a kiss that came to nothing before the war had broken out. Nothing had made things different between them in the intervening decade. But, the temptation was still there.

Austria reread the first stanza of the poem, trying to convince himself that this was the answer he needed. He needed a reproach from what he was imagining, what he was craving. The realization at the beginning of the Great War had awoken a lust in him. He remembered the kiss, the intimate moment. He tried desperately to draw his own attention back to the poem. These words needed to convince him to change his course, but the words swam on the page, meaning very little to him.

Austria sighed and tipped his head back, closing his eyes as he did so. There was nothing left to do not but to calm himself. The fact was that even had he not agreed because of Prussia, the threat of invasion was enough to force him to agree. There had really been no way out of it.

He became suddenly aware that there was music in the air, an aggressive waltz. Mixed in with it, Austria could make out the sound of boots against the floor. He opened his eyes to see Prussia just as the man stopped in front of him, and with a decidedly charming smile, extended his hand. It was an old gesture, almost completely anachronistic with the black SS uniform. It belonged a hundred years ago at the lavish balls that both of them had been so familiar with. Austria's heart jumped into his throat and stayed there. He could hardly believe what he was seeing, and he wondered if it was possible that he had fallen asleep and slipped into a dream. The albino, losing his patience, said, "It's an invitation to dance, Roderich. I recommend you accept it."

The bluntness made it clear that this was not a dream. Austria closed the book he had been failing to read and placed it on the couch next to him. Attempting wit, he responded, "And what would you do if I didn't? Threaten to invade me again?"  
Prussia leaned forward and said, his smile turning into a smirk, "Perhaps I will. Threatening has always been the only effective way to get through to you."

In the background, the song continued in constant triple beats. The music was unfamiliar, but it was compelling. Austria had not intended to decline the offer anyway, it was a strangely romantic gesture and he wasn't going to turn it away. Slowly, as though he was hesitant, he extended his hand and took the other's. Prussia smiled fully and pulled Austria to a standing position.

Between the couch and the opposite wall there was plenty of open space, which Prussia now used to his advantage. Almost gently, he led Austria into the middle of the floor. Then, he put his hand on the other's waist. Austria felt the need to speak again, if only to communicate that he wasn't completely submitting himself to Prussia's will, "Are you planning on leading? You never were the better dancer."  
The albino's eyebrow arched upward and his hand tightened. He looked straight into the other's violet eyes, and said with a smirk, "You overestimate your own ability. Besides, you're the one who agreed to merge with Germany."

The music started again, the prelude slow and expectant, but building to a passionate waltz. Austria responded as he felt Prussia take the first the first couple steps, "You aren't going to let me forget I surrendered, are you?" He already knew the answer; he could read it in the mischievous glint in the red eyes. Austria's body moved automatically, following the familiar steps of the waltz.  
As they turned, Prussia finally replied with the same domineering smirk, "You haven't surrendered to me yet, Roddy." He pulled them a couple inches closed together and said, "And I do want to see you surrender."

A shiver passed over Austria's skin. Was he imagining the lust dripping from the tone? They turned again, following the changes in the music. The steps of the waltz were familiar to both of them. But now it felt different. They were too close together for the traditional waltz and every inch left between them was loaded. A memory flashed across Austria's mind; Prussia's lips against his own before the Great War. But when they had truly gotten close, the albino had pulled away. And, yet, Austria could feel the other's hand tight against his back.

Prussia's sharp voice broke into his thoughts, "Are you paying any attention to me?" Austria looked up and locked eyes with the albino.  
He mustered a response, "Stop being an egotist. Do I have to look at you every moment?"  
Gracefully, Prussia led another turn, as he said, "I was taught that you should always look at your dance partner."

Austria attempted to rally, even though he knew that Prussia was right. But, he didn't want to look into those red eyes. He might melt again, even if he knew that Prussia wouldn't reciprocate. He kept his eyes away from the other's face until he felt a glove-clad hand slip from holding his hand to grab his chin. Prussia forced the Austrian to look into his face. The albino was no longer smirking; the look had been replaced with a look of concern. Austria felt his heart stop. The man that he had fallen for was standing in front of him, arm still around his back. Behind the uniform and the ideology, the heart was still there.

Prussia's grip on the other's jaw loosened, to the point where it was gentle. He said, his crisp arrogant nature breaking, "What's wrong?" Austria felt that they had stopped moving, but the music continued, its passionate harmony in time with the feelings coming up in his chest. The violins complimented the hope while the cellos spoke of the underlying threat of being unfulfilled again.

But, Austria wasn't going to let his own hard edge disappear just because Prussia was being softer. He responded, "You threatened and cajoled me into this deal. Then, you ask me what's wrong?" Already letting out biting criticism, He continued with more honesty, "Gilbert, you have built a military state again. It's exactly what you weren't supposed to do. Is that all you know how to do?"

The shadow that passed over the albino's face immediately told Austria that what he had said was terribly wrong. Prussia released the other and snapped, "Do you think you know better?" He took a step forward and Austria refused to retreat. Prussia continued to talk, venom in every word, "What would you have me do? I won't just stand by and let Francis extort my brother for the biggest farce of a treaty in European politics."

Austria didn't respond; it seemed better to not interrupt this tirade. As he expected, Prussia continued, "I will not let Ludwig suffer for Francis. If that man-" He gestured emphatically at the portrait of Hitler on the wall, trying to make his point, "can make us strong again, then I will pay whatever price I need to." The determination in the Prussian's flaming eyes spoke to Austria. Even through the words were delivered with strength, they were coming from parental love. The same love he had always seen in Prussia. Desperation was coming through. The glowing pride that had been so compelling before the last war was now expressing itself as this acrid anger, this regret for not being able to protect Germany. Austria searched for words, but he didn't have a chance. The other took yet another step forward and said, his strong voice sounding close to breaking, "Belittle me like you always do, but you're the one on your knees." Again he grabbed Austria 's jaw, this time forcefully.

The Austrian was finally able to respond, "I'm sorry, Gilbert. That was unfair." This backing down was unlike him, but in this situation it was appropriate. He had struck a very raw nerve, and it wasn't what he intended.  
Prussia said, "I told you before that I would kill to protect Ludwig, and I still will." Familiar warmth blossomed in Austria's chest, accompanied by a crescendo in the music. The man he knew hadn't disappeared into the sea of swastikas.  
Prussia spoke again, "Now that you're part of the Reich, will you back me in whatever I do?"  
The question was completely sincere, and Austria couldn't bring himself to answer with anything but honesty, "I will do what I can."

Prussia slipped his arm back around Austria's waist and pulled them even closer together. Then, he said, changing the subject, "Do you remember before the last war?" Austria smiled slightly and said, "What are you talking about?" The albino leaned forward and brushed his lips against Austria's. They weren't soft, but the touch was exhilarating.  
As he leaned back, he said, "I think you know, Schatz."

Austria groaned to himself, realizing exactly where this was going. But, he couldn't stop himself from hoping that this time would be different. He nodded slowly, not daring to voice what he was thinking. Prussia's smirk returned and he said, confidence filling his voice again, "Do you want more?" Without waiting for a response, the albino leaned forward and connected their lips again.

Without any conscious thought, Austria reacted. He put one hand on the side of Prussia's face, communicating that he was gladly acquiescing to this. Prussia's arm tightened, pulling them so close that their bodies were touching. Austria found himself wondering if it had always been this hot in the room. His skin was on fire. His clothing felt like it was heavy, clinging to his skin. All thoughts were extinguished as Prussia released his chin and used the free hand to squeeze the Austrian's butt. As the other gasped, he forced his tongue deep into the brunette's mouth. Austria's body melted against the other man's. His knees felt a little weak, and he was glad that Prussia was holding him so tightly.

Their lips parted and they both took deep breaths. Prussia couldn't resist saying something, "Now you're actually surrendering." He took another shaky breath and added, "and it tastes delicious."  
Austria countered, attempting to hide the fact that he still felt weak from the kiss, "Don't get so full of yourself."

It was a usual reprise for him and now it felt completely hollow. Prussia had every right to take pride in his ability to kiss away strength like that. It felt better than it had the last time, like there was far less restraint in the actions. Was it because they were now part of the same regime? Prussia saw the comment as empty and responded, "Tell me, Schatz, do you want to really merge with the Reich?" His voice had become amazingly seductive, rough as it was.  
Austria took a deep breath, tried to maintain his pride, and said, "I do, but-"

Before he could clarify that the other hadn't won this battle, lips were pressed forcefully against his own again. Again, it felt too good to resist, even if he knew this wasn't a good idea. He felt the albino's tongue touch the roof of his mouth before beginning a wrestling match with his tongue. Hands still firmly in place, Prussia released his lips just long enough to say, "Follow me."

Then, without any other explanation, he kneeled. Austria didn't completely understand the move, but he followed the action all the same. He no longer had the strength to resist this. He had spend more than a decade, more than a century, longing for Prussia and he wasn't about to throw this chance away. The floor beneath their knees was fine polished wood. The errant thought of the bruises this floor would leave if Prussia laid him down right here passed through Austria's head. He realized that from this position, that was the only option, but that didn't matter.

Bruises didn't matter, nor did discomfort. What mattered was that a single white hand was now slipping under his shirt and moving across his abdomen. A shiver ran over his skin. The other, his lips momentarily freed again, whispered in his ear, "Are you enjoying this?" Austria attempted a witty response, but was silenced when Prussia kissed his neck. He moaned and Prussia reacted by using his hands, one on Austria's chest and the other around his waist, to ease the brunette down onto the floor.

Austria objected for the sake of his own pride, "There is a couch right over there." Prussia scoffed and slid his hand lower, slipping beneath the Austrian's pants, "I'm going to rough you up either way. Stop whining and take it like a man." He then threw one leg over Austria's body so he was straddling him. Then he said, arrogant smirk firmly in place, "Now we really dance."

Austria understood the meaning completely and felt a feverish heat radiate from his skin. The music that they had both forgotten about suddenly swelled, building to the end of the movement. At the same moment, Prussia unbuttoned the other's pants and pulled them off. Austria's heart was now thundering in his chest, percussion to accompany the frantic advance of the strings. The albino kissed the other's neck again as he used both hands to guide Austria's legs into wrapping around his waist, which was still covered in black fabric. The touch was enough to make Austria completely accept this position. He was clearly on the bottom, but he was enjoying it.

Prussia then offered his fingers to Austria, who said, "This is so crass." The albino raised an eyebrow and continued to smirk. He said, "If you don't want to do it then you can go without it, but that will hurt quite a bit." Grudgingly, Austria took the fingers in his mouth, running his tongue around each digit. It was better to do this than to take the inevitable pain of going forward without preparation. He tried not to think about how completely submissive he looked at this moment with his bare legs wrapped around his rival, fingers in his mouth. But, this felt so good.

As the music momentarily lulled, Prussia surveyed his prey. Then, without a word, he pushed his fingers into Austria. Immediately Austria's back arched off the floor, his hips pushing down on the fingers. He groaned, which he immediately regretted when Prussia leaned forward and said in his ear, "I never thought you could sound so sexy. Let's see what other sounds you can make."

He inserted another finger and used them to slowly stretch the Austrian. He barely had the patience to get to three fingers, and soon removed them. Austria let out an involuntary whimper, which Prussia took as an invitation. He then pushed himself into the other. Austria let out a moan that was born half from pain, half from the very idea that Prussia was finally going all the way with him.

He could feel his shoulder blades pushing into the floor as his hips arched further up, longing for more contact. The albino connected their lips again with ferocious force. His teeth made contact repeatedly with Austria's lips, the rough unrestrained passion evident in every movement. At the same time, he started his first thrust. It was slow, intentionally gentle. But even as Austria moaned from the first, Prussia started the second. The movement spoke of impatience and dominance, exactly what Austria knew to expect from Prussia.

The music in the background built to the final crescendo, and the albino increased his speed. It was too much too fast; Austria lost all semblance of control. As the other hit his prostate over and over again, he moaned shamelessly and said Prussia's name repeatedly, pleading for more. He turned his head to the side, allowing the albino to kiss up and down the soft skin of his neck. He felt tightness building in his abdomen.

Austria opened his eyes. The portrait of Hitler looked down on the pair of them, the beady dark eyes seeing everything. One more thrust hit his prostate straight on. As the movement ended, Austria came, pleasure rushing through his body. But, he looked back at the portrait even as Prussia came inside of him and then laid messy kisses on his cheek. Austria realized that there was nothing behind those eyes but madness and hate. This wasn't right, it couldn't be and he had agreed to completely back Prussia. Oh Gott, what madness had he just agreed to?


	3. Postlude to War

The night was pleasant, but all the window coverings were pulled shut to hide the light. If the bombers could see the light, they would likely aim for it. There had been relatively little damage done to Berlin by bombings so far. But, even with heavy bombing of British airfields, there was reason for fear. This, being the center of operations was of the highest importance. There was no question that it must be protected.

Austria felt physically sick; he had been feeling uneasy for years now. He knew the source of the feeling, it came from the destruction being levied across Europe. He had been in wars before, but this one felt different. Even the Great War had not felt like this. He was walking by himself through the halls trying to clear his head. He no longer had a place in the Reich. He was following blindly now, little more than a cog in this war machine. No one was telling him what the strategy for the war was anymore, they just gave him directives. Ludwig was using his ideology as his only guide and taking no input from anyone else. He hardly asked his brother for any advice either.

It was a mistake and even Austria could see that. Only a fool would ignore the fact that Prussia was a brilliant strategist and a skilled soldier; Ludwig should be going to his brother in all military matters. But, the reason he did not was all to clear, it had been so in the last war too. Germany wanted to prove that he could win his own wars without hanging onto Prussia's coattails.

Austria turned the corner and heard the sound of running water. He could have turned away, but his own curiosity got the better of him. The pounding in his chest told him that he should investigate. He walked towards the sound and soon found an open door. He glanced in, not daring to make a noise yet, not until he knew the situation. Prussia was leaning over the sink, ringing his hands in the running water. Steam was rising off the water. He was wearing an undershirt and pants; the top of his uniform was discarded in a different part of the room. There was a handgun lying on the counter with the silencer, apparently forgotten.

Austria wasn't sure what he was seeing, but it shook him. This was not normal behavior for anyone, let alone Prussia. The details were the most disconcerting. The top to the uniform was crumpled and discarded, it was not like Prussia to treat the trappings of the military so carelessly. To him, the grandeur of the military had always held more important than anything. It was that institution that had made him great. There was nothing visible on the white hands, and yet Prussia continued to rub his hands together under what appeared to be scalding water as though he was trying to remove a stain deep in the skin. As Austria watched, still not sure if he should speak, Prussia jerked the handles to the off position and the water stopped. In a gesture that looked almost completely uncontrolled, the albino ran both of his hands through his hair, wetting the hair.

Austria could no longer restrain himself, "Gilbert." As soon as he said the name, Prussia's immediately turned towards him. His eyes were rabid, enough so that Austria took a step backwards. But, the look of a cornered beast lasted for only a second before Prussia visibly composed himself. Still, it was easy to see that Prussia was not himself. His white hair had fallen into disarray and was plastered to his forehead with water. It was not like him to look so messy.

He said, without making any attempt to fix his appearance, "What are you doing here, Roderich?" Austria would not answer that question. He could see that it was attempt to dodge the real issue at hand.  
He countered with his own question, "What is going on? You don't look well." Prussia turned and grabbed his uniform and pulled it on loosely over his shirt. He didn't bother to button it though.  
He responded with an answer that was intentionally short, "We're now at war with the Soviet Union."

It was clipped, terse even. But, the voice sounded hollow. He then walked past Austria out into the hall, as though this response ended the conversation. However, Austria would not let it go. The news should be surprising, but given the venom that Hitler had been spewing at communism since the Reichstag fire it was not. It had been clear that the alliance with the Soviet Union would end in disaster. Even so, actually moving against the Soviet Union was a dangerous step. Something clicked in his mind, making the situation clear: There had been a gun on the counter.

He was too shocked by the idea to withhold the realization, "Did you do it?" Prussia immediately stopped and turned around, his eyes full of fire.  
He advanced with an imitation of his usual aggression but without the real fire, speaking as he did so, "Yes, I did. I shot that communist bastard." He stopped, and his voice faltered, "I-I shot Ivan."

As before, the lack of control lasted for only a moment. Once he realized his weakness, Prussia reeled himself in again. Without another word, he turned and walked away again. Austria stood there, still trying to figure out what this meant. The Soviet Union was strong and, moreover, Russia was very hard to conquer. Even if the enmity made sense on an ideological level, this decision was not strategic. Austria still had the mind of an empire and could see how ill-advised this decision was. But, there was a layer that was even more troubling. Prussia had signed the non-aggression pact personally. Germany had sent him for his skill in diplomacy, but that did mean that Gilbert's name was on the document. This made a direct betrayal all the worse.

Broken out of his thoughts by the realization that he was alone, Austria ran after the other, his running steps ringing out in the silence. He reached an empty room, where he found Prussia standing at a window looking out, the curtain thrown open carelessly. He was looking out at the street, but turned his head at the sound of Austria's footsteps. He was about to speak, but Prussia cut him off, "Leave me in peace, Roderich."

Austria was glad that he was one of the few people who could easily ignore the albino's orders. He would not let this be. He walked over so that he was standing across from Prussia. He said, attempting to sound commanding, "I will not. You are going to tell me what's really going on."  
The albino's face was hard and expressionless when he said, "There is nothing more to tell. I made our intentions clear to Ivan. I leave for Könnigsburg in the morning to finish what I started."

The news was again, surprising. If there was to be victory, then sending Prussia to lead was the smartest thing to do. But, there was only a small chance of victory. Both of them knew it, they had observed and participated in enough wars. This was no less a fool's errand than Napoleon's crusade into Russia. Austria responded, "You do know that the Soviet Union will not fall like France, don't you?"  
Prussia looked away again, as though hiding his expression as he said, "I am amazed by your lack of faith. You should know better than anyone that usual odds don't apply to me."

It was confidence spoken, but it was not confidence felt. The voice behind the words did not have strength. They were a smoke screen, and a remarkably poor one at that. Austria still would not let this go. He responded, pressing on even though he could see that the other was reluctant, "You already know this isn't a campaign you can win." All he got in response was a noncommittal gesture, so he continued, "You must know that."

Prussia finally snapped back, "Yes I know! Why do you think I am going myself?" This response, by far the most characteristic thing that Prussia had yet done, was more puzzling than anything. But, Austria didn't need to ask for clarification. Now that he had unleashed the truth, it flowed freely. Prussia continued, his volume finally picking up, "I will not let Ludwig face Ivan! I will not let him face Ivan's rage." He turned and started to walk away again, as though this was the end of the conversation. As he walked away, Prussia said, almost under his breathe, "You didn't see the way he looked at me."

Again, Austria needed to physically pursue the conversation. He turned and walked with the albino. He said, trying not to give away what he was feeling, "What about you, Gil?" He had emotions warring inside his head. He still held affection for Prussia, even though he had started to suspect that he had only been seduced for his support. The night of the Anschluss had been the only one that they had spent together, but it was special to Austria all the same. But, he stopped short of expressing the affection he felt for Prussia. That would cross the carefully constructed borders between them. The last time he had allowed intimacy, it had hurt him. He was hesitant to hurt himself again.

Prussia stopped walking again and scoffed, "What about me?"  
Austria finished his own question, incredulous that the other could dismiss the subject so lightly, "Don't you see, you idiot? You will be in the same danger." He wanted to say more, but he stopped himself. It was foolish to go further. He couldn't express his affection. There was no chance that it would be returned.

The expression on the albino's face was completely unreadable, but there was something broken in the back of the red eyes. He said, his voice resolute, "Why does that matter? I will do whatever I have to, never mind the consequences."  
Austria took a step forward and, mustering all the aggression he could, said, "Has it occurred to you that people care about you, too?"

To this, Prussia responded again with a scoff. He appeared to be attempting for a defiant sneer, but the resultant expression was a hollow echo. It quickly faded as he spoke, giving way to the emotion beneath it. He said, "Ludwig approves of me going, so he clearly has the faith you lack."  
Austria responded at once, knowing the counter to only be half true, "He has a child's faith in you. You raised him to believe you can do anything." The words rang true. Austria had seen the way the young boy had eagerly followed his brother. He had watched Germany's own awe at his brother's triumphs.

Prussia recoiled immediately. Again, it was comforting to see actual emotion. Seeing Prussia's normal reactions gave Austria faith that he could break through this act and actually talk to the man he knew. The war put stress on all of them, but there was something profoundly different about the albino in this moment. It was haunting to hear the answers delivered only as diversions. Prussia could not usually hide what he was feeling. But, the fire was not dead in him.

Before Prussia could say anything, Austria continued, "But I didn't mean him."  
A look of realization appeared on the albino's face as he finally understood what Austria was trying to say. For a moment, Austria hoped that this would soften to acceptance, but that was immediately dashed when Prussia responded, "You already got what you wanted. Stop badgering me."

Again, he turned as though he was going to storm off. This time Austria kept his feet firmly planted and spoke again, hoping that his words could bring the albino back, "Do you really think I only wanted sex?" He knew that Prussia was referring to the single night they had spent together, and he was repulsed by the thought that he only wanted that sort of crass interaction. Lust was no substitute for affection, and certainly a single night was not enough. He felt all their history together coming back to him, all those years of fighting. But there was more than that, there were moments of camaraderie that were invaluable. There was even affection before these wars. They had fought together before, against countries and ideas. It was impossible to compress all of those centuries of feeling into a simple lust. There was so much more emotion under the surface. It was impossible to put their relationship into a single word that would accurately express it.

Prussia turned back towards him, and said with a bitterness that was palpable, "Have you ever wanted anything else?" Austria stood his ground, completely willing to defend his own affection.  
He said, his own voice softening to counter the hard tone of the other, "No, I want you."  
It was a short, honest answer, but it was what he had been failing to say through two straight wars. In truth, even longer.

But now was different. If Prussia was going to take on the Soviet Union head on after such a brazen betrayal, then there was a possibility that this would be the last time they saw each other. They both knew that this war was different than any that had occurred in Europe before and the stakes were far higher. Even countries wouldn't be safe when the judgment came down at the end, and Austria had a sneaking suspicion that Germany would not triumph.

To make his point even more clearly, he grabbed Prussia by both sides of his open uniform and pulled him forward. Without even waiting for a reaction, Austria smashed his lips against Prussia's. He would not wait for Prussia to make the moves anymore. He had waited too long now. He expected the albino to push him away, but he didn't feel any resistance. However, Austria pulled away after only a short moment. He wouldn't let himself be seduced and manipulated this time. Instead, he was going to take control. When he pulled away, he said, his voice little more than a whisper, "How can you not know that?"

Prussia's eyes had softened substantially, the red melting. He replied, "Roderich, don't-"  
Austria interrupted so that Prussia could not finish what was likely to be a denial, "If you are so dead set on this suicide mission, then I can't stop you. But come to bed with me tonight." Again, he expected the other to pull away with a sneer and a cruel remark. Instead, Prussia put his hand on Austria's shoulder. It was a soft gesture, not one of hostility.

The albino spoke with the first real emotion. It was immediately clear how flat his voice had been. He said, "You disprove that you want sex by asking me to have sex with me?" It was familiarly cynical. This was the quick wit that Prussia had always had. Austria felt a smile appear on his face, comforted by the familiarity even though the criticism was directed at him.  
He corrected himself, "That's not what I meant. I just want to have you with me tonight. Just come and lie with me. It doesn't have to be anything other than that."

He did not stop himself, not this time. This time he was not going to let Prussia seduce him, use him, and leave him. He still expected the albino to pull away, to deny him. Even when both of them had nothing left to risk, he did not expect Prussia to oblige him. The red eyes pierced straight through him, regaining their power. Prussia spoke, "I suppose the East is cold and I will miss the warmth of another person. You can keep me company tonight."

He put his other hand on Austria's other shoulder. There was strength in his hands, and it was reflected in the albino's red eyes. It was not the same strength that he had had when he was an empire, but it was determination. That had to be enough for now though. Austria put his own hand on top of the albino's and was about to speak, but Prussia stopped him, "Don't think that this means anything."

Austria bit back the words he had intended to say. He had pushed his own nature as far towards clarity as he could, and now his honesty was vanishing. He responded, "I don't want you to leave without one night." He stopped short of what he was really longing to ask for. It was too much to say, and it was impossible to find the words to properly express it anyway. Instead, Austria took a hold of the edge of Prussia's uniform and slowly urged off the fabric, leaving Prussia in the state of partial undress that he had found him in. Somehow, it seemed to suit him better. If Austria was being completely honest, he had always noticed something off about the black uniform. It fit perfectly and Prussia did look handsome. But, it all seemed to speak of contrivance. It was strange to see him give up his usual blue for the harsh black. At least the iron cross remained, the last symbol of the empire that Prussia had been.

Austria moved one hand to touch the cross, but Prussia stopped him by pulling away. He said, sharp again, "What are you doing, Roderich?" Austria scrambled to explain the actions that had taken very little rational thought. In truth, he had been trying to return Prussia to the man he had been, a man of both cunning and honor. But, those were dangerous words to speak, to remind Prussia of how far he had fallen from grace.  
Instead, the Austrian folded the uniform over his arm and said evasively, "It isn't like you."

He did not know how the albino would interpret the comment, but he left it open enough to simply mean the treatment of the uniform. A shadow of a smirk passed over Prussia's face. He spoke, and the levity in his voice sounded forced, "What would you know about me, Roddy?" Austria winced, even though he could see that the comment was little more than facade. And yet, the words still stung. He attempted a smile, but it felt forced.  
Prussia broke the tension in the room by turning and saying, "I believe you know where my bedroom is." As he walked away, there was still something restrained in all the movements.

Austria could have followed him, but he hung back for a moment and ran his hand slowly over the uniform he had taken from the albino. The full truth of how wrong this all was was dawning on him. It was all encapsulated in this one garment. Germany wanted to be his brother so fervently, but he hadn't understood the subtly of Prussia's success. Now it was clear: Even Prussia was withdrawing into himself, becoming nothing but a soldier following orders. The brilliance of Prussia's strategic mind had been buried beneath layers of obedience.

Austria forced his mind away from the question of how this would all end. He didn't want to think of how justice would be meted out at the end of this all, especially with the Soviet Union officially among their enemies. For tonight, he couldn't consider that. But, he did wonder if the same thoughts were weighing on Prussia's mind. Did his own guilt and mortality haunt him? Was that part of the reason his manner had become so distant? It was hard to say, but as Austria absentmindedly smoothed the uniform and draped it over a chair, his own mind would let him have no peace.

The feeling of deep sickness returned to his stomach. They were all sick, stuck in this madness that they created. It couldn't all be blamed on Germany, even if that would be easier. Austria had agreed to this without raising so much as an objection, without ever saying a single word to Germany. Who was he to judge it now that they were all soaked in blood? Finally, Austria took his hand off the fabric of the uniform.

He had been lost in these thoughts too often. Perhaps Prussia's terse obedience was better than trying to understand. Whatever sense there had been in this had melted into sheer fanaticism long ago. He looked around the room, half in an attempt to ground himself. He realized how long it had been since Prussia had departed the room. Austria's own reflections had overwhelmed him, as they did almost habitually now. But, it was wrong to keep the albino waiting when the request had been Austria's. Austria left the jacket where it was and walked away towards the lover who still eluded him.

As he got closer to the room, he heard a sound that seemed to echo out of the past. It was the soft plucking of a violin. This was not distorted as recorded music was, it was the pure ringing of strings. It resonated through Austria's sternum, and straight through to his heart. The notes did not sound mournful, just overwhelmed by the deep muted night around them. Austria looked into the half closed door of Prussia's bedroom and realized where the sounds were emanating from. The albino was sitting on his bed with his violin in his lap. The instrument was in pristine condition, the varnish unscathed. Austria spoke, his voice soft, "I didn't know you still played."

He wasn't entirely sure why, but this sight was throughly impressive. He had taught the albino how to play when they had still been friends, before war and territorial ambitions had torn them apart. How long had it been since Austria had heard those calloused white fingers making music? Prussia responded without even looking up, "I don't. This thing doesn't sound right on its own. I was just thinking…"

He trailed off, leaving it a mystery what had possessed him to pick up the violin. Austria decided to sit on the other side of the bed before speaking again, "What would you like as accompaniment?" He half hoped that the other would invite him to play with him. One more duet as they both stood on this precipice.  
But, Prussia finally turned his head and said, "Like you don't know. Or should I say 'flute' to make it clear?"

The words struck deep in Austria, just as the music had. But, this had a different effect. He knew what Prussia was thinking about, or rather who he was thinking about. The albino confirmed this when he said, "The way they talk about Fritz, you'd think he was some myth. I know he was real and he was human." He paused for only a moment before saying, "And he was mine."

Austria could hear the strain in the voice. Something had shifted. Now Prussia was laid bare, far too raw. He was still not being honest, but the emotions were real. For a moment, Austria struggled with what to say before he decided on, "Ludwig told me you never told Hitler that you were Prussia. Is that true?"  
Prussia sighed and, as though giving up a tightly held secret, said, "They already took my symbols and made me into something I'm not. I didn't want to give them more to use."

Austria thought over the words for a moment, considering what they meant. His mind lighted upon the idea that, even though he wore the uniform, Prussia had never fully supported this cause. Had he done it all for Germany? But, before Austria got the chance to say anything, Prussia said, "But let's not talk about that." He put the violin carefully on a table before turning back to the bed. He said, a slight smile on his face, "Keep me company, Roddy."

Austria expected to be happy that his request was finally being echoed in the albino's voice, but he couldn't help but see it as another dodge. Prussia knew how to manipulate conversation and he was clearly steering this one away from the topics that made him uncomfortable. Normally, Austria would have fought him about it. But tonight, with the fatalistic weight of the Eastern front hanging over them, there was no point to it. Neither of them wanted to taint the night with the conflict that had characterized their relationship.

When Prussia laid down, still almost fully clothed, Austria decided to lay down next to him. He looked directly at the albino, willing him to make a move. The earlier confession could not have been forgotten so easily. Even with all his willpower focused on it, Austria was surprised when Prussia pulled him in. Their lips touched with a restrained passion that Austria couldn't quite believe. There was no antecedent, nothing in their conversation that had foreshadowed this.

He opened his eyes slightly, trying to figure out if this was another manipulation. This time he was not overwhelmed, or seduced like before. Prussia was not looking at him. Austria closed his eyes and attempted to let himself forget. But, he didn't feel the same dominance that Prussia had exerted over him last time. This touch felt like it was trying to coax him into dominance. The Austrian pulled away and said, his voice soft beyond his own control, "Are you still thinking about Friedrich?"

Prussia responded with another heavy sigh and turned on his back and looked up at the ceiling. For a moment, there was nothing but tense silence. Then Prussia said, his voice taking on the same smooth, emotionless tone as earlier, "I think that's the first time you've said his name. You always said, 'your king'."  
Austria echoed Prussia's sigh with his own. He hadn't meant the question to create such bitterness. All the same, he had to respond to it. It would not do to leave it hanging unanswered. Austria finally said, calculating every word, "I never forgave him."

The Prussian scoffed, "Why? Because he took Silesia from you?" Austria knew he could lie, say that that was the only reason he despised Friedrich II. But, he had to be honest now before he could no longer.  
He said, "Do you really think that after all these years I care about one province? He took you from me, and you were more important."

He wished that Prussia would at least look at him, but the red eyes were fixed on the ceiling. When the albino did speak, he did so to the ceiling, "Roderich, he didn't take me; he didn't seduce me. He just saw me as something precious. I wasn't my father's sins; I wasn't your burden." He stopped suddenly and a bitter laugh made its way from between his lips, "Listen to me, babbling like a poet. How absurd."

Again, they lapsed into silence. But, this time Austria knew what to do. He reached over and took a hold of Prussia's hand. He said, "Gil, let that go for tonight. I am still here." Austria reached over and put his hand under Prussia's chin and forced the albino to look at him. There was a strange distance in the red eyes, as though his thoughts were still far away in the past.

Austria pressed his lips against the other's softly. He felt the albino slowly decide that if this was going to be the situation, he was going to take dominance. Austria felt Prussia's hands on his body, but they were still hesitant. Prussia pulled away again, but this time he kept his eyes fixed firmly on Austria. He spoke, "Can you promise me something?"

Feeling suddenly empowered, Austria reached out and touched Prussia's face lightly. He replied, "Of course, Gil." Doubt flashed across Prussia's face again, emotion breaking through all facade.  
He said, "If Ivan compromises me somehow, will you look after Ludwig?"

There it was in his eyes again: concern for Germany. The pure love of a brother hadn't faded as the war pressed on, even with what Germany had done, even though Germany had created this hopeless war with only complete dominance or complete destruction as the possible outcomes. Austria didn't hesitate for a moment in his response, "I will do what I can for him."

He wasn't that close to Germany, but that didn't matter. If Prussia was asking him, then there was no way he was going to deny it. Whatever thought would sustain Prussia in the bitter cold of the East Austria would gladly nurture. If he needed to, then he would keep his promise. Prussia nodded, although it appeared to only be a gesture to comfort himself.

For another moment, Austria waited in silence and wondered at the thoughts keeping Prussia uncharacteristically silent. His eyes still looked lost, like they were hoping for an answer, a guarantee that Austria couldn't possibly give. Not since they had both been children had Austria seen fear stir in albino, even when he faced the real prospect of death in the Seven Years War and the Napoleonic Wars. It could not be himself he feared for, not with the way he was throwing himself into danger. After a few moment of pensive silence, Prussia said, "Thank you for that, Roderich. I don't want him to be alone without me."

The way his voice softened made Austria feel strangely uncomfortable with the way the albino's hands were still touching him. This had all been a hollow gesture, grasping at the last inklings of affection before everything slipped away. Did either of them really mean this? It was hard to say with certainty, but in this moment it no longer felt right. Austria sighed to himself, realizing that he should have known better. He should have known that they were both trying to fill longings for other passions. Instead of trying to continue the farce, Austria put his arms carefully around the albino and pulled himself closer. He found a spot to nestle his head firmly in the crook of Prussia's neck.

It was strangely more comfortable. He felt Prussia slowly return the embrace, putting his arms around Austria with an almost delicate caring. One hand was softly placed in his soft black hair. Warmth, pleasant and radiating, began to rise in Austria's chest, replacing the ever present feeling of sickness. He spoke softly, not caring what he was saying, "Do you remember the first time we met? We laid together like this."

He heard Prussia let out a small laugh, that sounded more genuine than anything the albino had said thus far. Then he said, "I thought you'd forgotten. I remember how strange I thought you were when you bragged about how well you played lute." He paused for a moment before adding, "You haven't changed."

It could have been meant as a dig, but Austria felt himself warm at it anyway. He had always been fond of music, even as a young man. He responded in kind, "I didn't know what to make of you. I thought you were too brash and brutish. You haven't changed either." Again, Prussia laughed softly, but he didn't speak again.  
So, Austria said, "But I remember that we laid like this and looked at the stars."

He stopped speaking for a moment, trying to formulate what he wanted to say. The nostalgia was soft and comforting. It was helping them both to forget the present, but it could only last if they both kept talking. Prussia responded, speaking slowly as though he was telling a secret, "I remember that night." He left it at that, and Austria looked up to see the expression on the albino's face. It was a slight smile, one that spoke of amusement.

But it faded as the moment dissipated in the cold night air. Finally, Prussia said, "Pity we ended up here, isn't it?" The other sighed and nested himself more firmly against the albino. He did not want to think about their long history of antagonism. He just wanted to lose himself in the body heat and Prussia's subtle scent. But, he felt obliged to give an answer.  
Austria said, "Don't dwell on it. For tonight, it's just us."

He tightened his arms around the albino, hoping to communicate everything he was feeling. There was no reason to dwell when the point of the night was to find solace. There was far too much weighing on Prussia's mind, and this was the only way to try and alleviate it. After a couple more agonizing minutes of silence, Prussia's arms tightened around the Austrian. Prussia said, "Be good to Ludwig. He will need someone."

* * *

Austria had known the war was lost long before he had been captured by the Allies; he had known it when Stalingrad had fallen. When the Allies came for him, he hadn't put up a fight. He refused to go down fighting for an ideology he did not believe in. He was sitting in a spartan, but not unpleasant, room feeling relatively relieved that this destructive war was over. He would be punished, but that didn't scare him. He deserved the punishment for taking part in this crusade of wanton death.

He looked up at nothing in particular on the ceiling, a waltz from a different time playing in his head. He could close his eyes and remember where he knew the song from. It had been that night, the one that he had agreed to be part of the Reich. It had been playing when Prussia had seduced him and it came back to him now. Austria's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door to his comfortable cell opening.

He opened his eyes and looked at the intruder into his space. America entered the room, followed by Germany, who was looking down at the floor as he walked. The American said, apparently trying to break the silence, "I don't think you two need any introduction." The German finally looked up, his eyes showing a level of hope that seemed disproportionate. When his eyes found Austria, his face fell again. Apparently dejected, the German shuffled over to sit next to Austria. His hands were bound, unlike Austria's, and he was staring at them blankly. The handcuffs suggested that he had fought back when he was captured. All things considered, Germany looked relatively unharmed. He had some bruises, but that was very little considering he had fallen to military conquest.

Once America closed the door, Austria said, "Who were you expecting?"  
The answer he got was cold and terse, "My brother. I haven't seen Gil in days." The words caused a chill to shoot down Austria's back. He had not seen Prussia since the albino had left for the Eastern front, and he had assumed that he had been captured at the fall of Stalingrad. But Germany's words confirmed otherwise, and this was all the more terrifying. Even secluded here, he had heard about Russia's rage. That rage could easily be turned again Prussia's person.

Trying not to let on about the dismay he felt at the news, Austria said, "Did he return to Berlin?" Germany nodded, but bit his eyes remained on the floor. He also didn't bother to actually speak. How very like his brother Austria thought. But, Austria couldn't let that be the only information he had. Alone in Vienna, he had often wondered how Prussia fared on the Eastern front. He had assumed that the fall of Stalingrad had been Prussia's undoing.

He said, "Ludwig, what happened? I haven't had any news in months." Germany clenched both of his hands into fists. Austria glanced over and realized that the other's jaw was clenched tight, trying to hold in emotions.  
He spoke in an intentionally slow, measured way, "He came back and he was...different. He said he would defend Berlin to his last breath."

He paused for a moment and then his stern facade seemed to break. He said, "What if he did? It is his capital." It took a moment for Austria to understand what Germany was asking. He feared that his brother was dead. Austria could not say it was not a possibility; he knew that Prussia was stubborn and Russia's rage was insatiable.  
But, he had made a promise to Gilbert on the last night they had spent together, so he said, "You will see him again. He will fight to the end; that's who he is. He might still be out there."

He was speaking in absolutes, but there was no way to know. Germany was on the very edge of breaking down though, and without any comfort he would crumble. If he knew it was acceptable, Austria would have put an arm around the blonde. Germany spoke under his breath, as though he was not really speaking to anyone else, "I told him to betray Russia. I told him to go East. If anything happens, it will be my fault."

Austria threw his better judgment aside and put an arm around Germany. He felt that there was a small shiver going through the man. It was hard to say if it was fear or just guilt that was wracking Germany. Austria searched for words of comfort, but they were difficult. Finally they materialized on the tip of his tongue, but as he opened his mouth to speak, the door opened again.

This time, America entered by himself. His blue eyes scoured over both of them before he finally said, "Do whatever you have to to get ready. We are going to sentence you in an hour." The words seemed to imply that the war was over and the capital had surrendered. But, if that was true Prussia had been subdued or worse. Austria let out a shaky breath as the words hit him.

He kept silent, but Germany did not. The blonde immediately said, "You can't! Not without my brother." America ran his hand through his hair.  
He looked frustrated, and it became clear why when he said, "I wish I had gotten to him first, but I just got a call from Ivan. He has Prussia in his custody."

Both of them understood what that meant; Russia had a victim for his violent vengeance. Again, Austria could not muster words to throw at the country that had defeated him. But, Germany did not hold back, "How dare he? If he lays a single finger on Gilbert, I'll-"

America cut him off, "You can't threaten Ivan! I can't even threaten that communist bastard and I have nukes. But I promise you this: He will not have Prussia! I will not give that Soviet pig that military advantage." He gesticulated violently as he talked, as though he was giving a grand moving speech to a large still had the grandeur of a young country, but he had proven himself capable of actually fighting and winning. Still, it was hard to believe his promise. Germany's jaw was again clenched hard. With one more sweeping gesture, America said, "I will deal with Ivan. You just need to brace yourselves."

* * *

Austria was seated next to Germany as the hearing commenced, but the chair next to them was still ominously empty. Austria pushed his glasses up his nose and adjusted his cuffs out of nervous habit. There was nothing else he could do to comfort himself, even if he wanted to. The longer they had to wait for Russia, the more anxious he got. There was no way to tell if Prussia was even alive, or if it was just an elaborate plot to make them all suffer. Austria couldn't help but wonder if his own heart was beating more frantically than Germany's. They both had reason to be worried, but it came from entirely different feelings.

The doors to the room were thrown open and Austria immediately craned his neck to look. Prussia entered the room first, with Russia right behind him. He turned his head slightly to look at where Austria and Germany were sitting. It was clear that there was a dark purple bruise across one side of his face, as though that side of had been hit quite hard. Austria tried not to let his mind wonder what else could have possibly caused that bruise. There was more than one reason for Russia to force the albino's face against a flat surface. The way that Russia was looking at him was not helping Austria's imagination. Russia's eyes looked like they could see straight through the uniform. It was sickening.

Germany's eyes were still fixed blankly forward. He had not even turned to look at his brother. Austria leaned over and said, "Gilbert's here, Ludwig. He doesn't look good either." Germany immediately jerked his head around and looked at Prussia. A very slight smile appeared on the blonde's face and Austria could tell it was one of relief. Russia said something to the albino and the way his lips brushed Prussia's ear made the taste of vomit rise in Austria's throat. He recognized the fear that flashed over the red eyes. He could only guess at what Russia had just said.

As Prussia sat, Austria looked him over, attempting to ascertain what kind of damage Russia had done so far. There were dark bruises peeking out from under his cuffs, like handcuffs had been tight against his wrists. But, other than being slightly thinner, he looked well. Austria felt a small echo of comfort in it. As Prussia spoke to his brother, Austria let himself feel relieved. America had said that he would keep Prussia out of Russia's hands, and with that guarantee Austria would not have to keep his promise.

But, as England spoke, there was an uneasy feeling in the air. Russia was wearing a calm confident smile that would not let Austria have any certainty. There was some plan at work that only the Russian knew. With a flair bordering on dramatic, Russia leaned over and opened his mouth like he was about to speak. Austria's heart jumped into his throat. Something terrible seemed just on the horizon.

On some strange cue, Prussia stood. He spoke with a clear ringing voice, " I volunteer myself to be the Soviet occupied zone."  
Austria couldn't believe what he was hearing. Why would Prussia throw himself so recklessly at Russia? Unable to restrain himself, Austria said, "Are you mad?"

He meant the question to break Prussia out of whatever idiocy he was thinking. But, Prussia didn't even react. He just kept his eyes on Russia, whose smirk had widened into a triumphant smile. The decision was made quickly, and the trial ended even more quickly. Austria was still reeling from the shock of Prussia's offer by the time it was all over. Only when Russia spoke directly to him did the full reality of the situation.

Russia's voice was cloyingly sweet when he said, "Roderich, show some decency and leave the pair of them alone." Knowing that the brother's needed a moment together, Austria stood. It was tactful, but he wanted his own moment to speak to Prussia. He needed to affirm that he would look after Germany, just as he had promised. Prussia needed that affirmation before he was swept away behind the iron curtain.

Austria had no choice though; he had to follow Russia out of the room. As soon as they were out of the room, Russia turned on him with a sadistic smile, "Doesn't Gil look beautiful?" Responding would be taking the bait, but Austria would not allow himself to be taunted either.  
He said, letting his own anger out, "How dare you? Your brutalizing is horribly ugly."

The Russian let out a slight laugh, "Watch your tongue, Nazi. I own part of you now too, and I will punish you for lip. I disagree with you: Gil looks so inviting when he's so weakened and desperate."  
Austria reacted, completely disregarding Russia's threat. He would not let anyone speak about Prussia like that, "I don't know what you have planned, but he isn't some prize of war."

Russia's smile was cold and completely unyielding. It was making Austria's stomach flip in reaction to the sickness it communicated. The madness was so obvious and so unnerving in the Russian's violet eyes. He spoke and there was joy in it, "Oh I will tell you what I have planned: I'm going to break him open and make his blood and iron my own. He's an obedient soldier and he is going to serve me well." He paused for a moment before fixing his taunting eyes on the other's and saying with a sneer, "And I'll keep him in my own bed."

Austria growled, a rare rage rising in him. He spoke without the deference he should be showing considering the politics, "You won't break him. You're too used to those Baltics."  
Russia seemed to be enjoying his reactions, and continued to antagonize him, "I've already gotten him to offer himself to me, the rest will come in time. So, I hope you enjoyed the last time he fucked you because he's never going to touch you again."

With that, Austria was reduced to silence. There was nothing he could possibly say to express his contempt for Russia. He kept his mouth resolutely shut, but he seethed. Russia added with a falsely innocent smile, "I think Gil's had enough time with his brother. I will be checking on your progress soon." He turned and walked back into the room, leaving Austria grappling with himself. He wished he could fight, do anything to change the situation. But, right now he was going to keep quiet. It would be completely futile. But, he refused to accept this. He would get Prussia back, no matter what Russia did. Even if it took decades, he would do it.


End file.
